


Come as You Were

by shikaku28



Series: Roserunning [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Trauma, almost soft, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shikaku28/pseuds/shikaku28
Summary: He takes a deep breath and squints at Tommy. He's not lying- or at least he doesn't think he is. Not that Quentin would call him on it anyway. He really didn't want to have to explain that he just Labyrinth'd his way through Tommy's most deep seeded trauma and fought his fear to get his powers back. And he definitely wasn't going to do it again. Ever.
Relationships: Quentin Quire/Tommy Shepherd
Series: Roserunning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861402
Kudos: 7





	Come as You Were

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure why almost Nirvana songs are the theme of these but I felt the need to commit.
> 
> This is the sfw optional mostly angsty almost soft second part to my first Quentommy fic. A ship I am affectionately dubbing Roserunner because I'm going to carry this rarepair.

Tommy's not the first to wake up. Something very foreign to him. He _did_ however wake up with a splitting headache and a stomach on the verge of emptying itself. Which was much more familiar. He didn't remember most of last night, but he vaguely recalled Quentin and drinking and the pieces would fall in line quickly enough from there.

But none of that mattered because Quentin woke up before him, equally hungover and disoriented, his first response being to punch Tommy in the shoulder.

"Ow! What the-?"

"My fucking ass _hurts_ you psycho and my shirt is ruined."

"Aww want me to kiss it better?" Tommy teased, "Sounds like a fucking great night."

"You have no clue how to treat a woman."

Quentin passes up the offended gasp that follows by getting up and floating out of bed. He needed a shower. Very badly. Tommy also needed the bathroom. A place like this looked like it had multiple, but he was going for 'as inconvenient to Quentin as possible.'

He tries to zoom out of bed.

He fails to zoom out of bed.

In fact, he hardly actually makes it out of bed at all. He didn't even get the sheets off himself, he just topples to the ground and lands rather heavily on his shoulder. From behind him Quentin just hears a loud "Fuck!" and then a softer "what the fuck?" That did wonders for both of their headaches.

"What the fuck did you do to me?"

"Why does it have to be something _I_ did? Maybe _you_ just can't hold alcohol." And to think he was just about to ask if he was okay. Tommy's resulting glare is unamused and he does his best not to squirm beneath the look. "I might've locked your powers so you can't use them for the night-"

"WHAT?"

"For the night!! It'll wear off eventually. You're the one that told me to do it! You can't possibly blame this on me."

"I can and I fucking will. What the hell do you mean eventually?? You don't know??"

"I know that it _will_. I know what the hell I'm doing okay?"

"Yeah? Then undo this shit."

Quentin just rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna go shower." Tommy can't catch up with him before he slams the door in his face, further reminding him of his predicament. "Fuck you Quire," Tommy mutters after he's gone on, pushing his hands through his hair. He should just call Billy and tell him to take him home. He'll find someone else to do this. But he doesn't know any other telepaths. None that he can contact. Maybe he can ask Billy, convince him to talk to Strange, telepathy is just brain magic right?

_It's not fucking brain magic, what the hell are you talking about?_

The thought cuts into his reasoning sharply and sounding kind of offended.

_I thought I told you to stay out of my head?_

_Nah, I wined and dined you last night remember?_

Tommy shrugs that one off. He's not wrong, and he didn't actually mind him in there. Not the biggest thing to fight him over as it stands. Cut down on yelling across the apartment and he was going to need him in his head anyway if he's going to unlock his powers or whatever he was talking about earlier.

_Whatever. I'm gonna eat literally all your food._

_Dude you don't have a metabolism anymore, you're just gonna throw up._

_That's your problem now._

Tommy hears the water shut off quickly and considers it mission accomplished as he ventures into the kitchen. Cereal, cold pizza, this half a smoothie sitting out for who knows how long, frozen eggo waffles, and some onion rings he found at the back of the fridge. He's halfway through everything when Quentin finally floats into the kitchen, still in a towel but his hair looks immaculate. He looks at the breakfast spread Tommy's chosen and turns his nose in absolute disgust. 

"Never kiss me again."

"Fix this shit Quentin. Your place is a mess and this smoothie was sitting on the counter, gimme my speed back or I'm barfing all over your shit."

"Don't fucking hold yourself hostage in my kitchen. Fine! Just quit fucking whining about it. Also I'm taking you with me."

He makes a show of reaching into the towel's waist to pull out a psychic pistol. Tommy doesn't have time to ask what the hell that means before he's pulling the trigger. Quentin watches him faceplant in the pizza with a slightly vindicated laughter. He debates the logistics of leaving him like that. Weighs the pros and cons. Figures he'd still just be in his apartment if he didn't wake him so might as well fix him and kick him out. He pulls up some free table to plant his ass and closes his eyes to also dive into Tommy's head.

When he gets there it looks different than last night. Everything's so much more…. on fire. "Does my head always look like this?" he hears the voice come from just beside him and he sees Tommy crossing a rubble strewn street to get to him. Quentin looks at the cars crashed into the buildings, blocking the tiny streets and people filing around the rubble in a state of absolute exhaustion.

"Yeah pretty much," Quentin shrugs, "Let's go."

"Cool," he shrugs, "Where to? And are you planning to like… Get dressed? You're in my head dude."

Quentin was still in the fluffy pink towel he'd taken from the bathroom. At Tommy's complaint, he drops the towel completely. The speedster rolls his eyes but Quentin notices the crowd changes. It's not ambiguous faceless people, but gatherings of people that Tommy knows, looped like lazy video game graphics. Of course he can pick out his face quickly enough and each iteration is matching his naked form. Only kind of creepy, and mildly disorienting. He puts himself in something more presentable. A nice three piece suit. The crowd Quentins stay naked. "God dammit." Time to just keep moving.

They're pushing through the crowd. Neither of them are paid any mind. Tommy seems to be walking through them, navigating with ease. Not surprising he has more practice avoiding his own thoughts. A heavy piece of concrete comes loose from a building above. Quentin flinches while Tommy ducks around it, calling behind him "Keep up man I'm following you." There's no rhyme or reason to this place, just everything everywhere all the time. But Quentin tries to note basic structure. 

The cars held passing thoughts- likely why they moved so fast- they would speed by and fade into the distance or occasionally crash into each other and create a new thought. They didn't have drivers- also it was very obvious Tommy hasn't been in a car since late middle school and didn't know how basic road rules work.

The people were muttering things Tommy remembers them saying or wants them to say. For Quentin it was easy to tell the difference. There's a lot of Kate lingering around, but her words are quiet. The loudest is Quentin at the moment, he's not sure if he's supposed to be proud of that. Every so often he sees the Scarlet Witch… note to check that out later despite being almost afraid of the answer.

The buildings are memories. He can see snippets of events in the windows like tv screens. There's one with lights streaming out of it and music shaking the walls. Club memories, most of the glass fogged heavily with an alcohol fueled haze. Lust seeps from underneath the door and Quentin creates a hand fan to wave off the aphrodisiac-like mist. Tommy's starting to wander inside. "Oh no you don't," Quentin grabs his arm as he nudges at the door. For the briefest moment Quentin gets something… dangerously familiar. Behind the lust and booze and adrenaline pumping excitement- fear, running, avoidance- "We have to go." Tommy rolls his eyes but follows him away from the building.

They keep walking, but the scene just seems to stretch into infinity. They don't seem to be getting any closer to an end, or any farther than where they started. "Navigating your brain is fucking impossible, no wonder you don't do it." Quentin grabs his hand and just decides to duck into a nearby building. A change of scenery is bound to yield something different. It's a tall structure with crumbling walls but still deceptively stable. Quentin kicks it open with increasing impatience and ducks inside. 

Suddenly it's quiet. Eerily quiet. Silent enough that their steps echo. It looks like a reception area for an apartment complex, but the lights are dim and it looks like no one's lived here in years. The elevator is caved in and busted. "Looks like we're taking the stairs."

They walk in silence, Tommy just following seemingly unfazed. It's only when they arrive at the first floor and Quentin starts to open the door out of the stairwell that he stops him. "What are we… looking for again?"

There's a pause. He hates explaining mind bullshit to people that don't get it. But they're already here so he might as well halfass something. "We're looking for where you keep your powers basically."

"Wouldn't the memory of you murking them be back in that building we passed before?"

"No not that. We need where _you_ keep your powers. How you see yourself as a mutant. Self-esteem bullshit."

"My self-esteem is great and my powers are awesome. That means it should be easy to find right?"

Quentin rolls his eyes but it's obvious they're pushing into more morally ambiguous territory, it should be easy. If only he could be so lucky. "This is where you keep important memories, the more important the harder it is to get to them."

Tommy doesn't respond to that, just lets him continue on.

Quentin gives him one last look, a silent 'are you sure?' before pushing the door open. It gives way easily and he felt like he was expecting a monster on the other side, but it's just a hallway. "We've gotta get you some psychic barriers man, this is just sad." He tries to jostle some kind of rapport out of Tommy, otherwise he can tell this is going to get very uncomfortable very quickly. He doesn't take the bait though, just shifts hesitantly and continues forward.

They glance at the doorways they pass, each one ajar with audio floating out. These are mostly from when he was younger, middle school age. First kiss, school lunch, sitting around in the principal's office. There's also a couple from juvie. Tommy raises an eyebrow at them. "I thought you said these were important, I don't even remember half of these. Let's just hurry up and get out of here." There's more avoidance in his voice, but not because he's lying. 

He jogs on ahead to head up to the next level, Quentin lingers by the last door and he peeks inside. Tommy's seated at a table amidst a handful of other inmates in this detention program. "This is your last chance before the state gives up on you completely. I don't want to see any of you here next semester. You're getting too old to act like kids, no one's going to feel sorry for you anymore. They're just going to put you in prison. A real prison. For good." Tommy's rolling his eyes, carving something into a plastic table. For a second, worry washes over him but he sighs and shrugs it off. Quentin sighs and continues up. 

He doesn't see Tommy on the stairs, doesn't see him on the second level. Somehow the hallway is narrower and the ceiling is lower. The place is threatening to swallow him.

These memories are a bit more recent. Lots of Young Avengers, the team finding him and making him part of the team, hanging out with Cassie, their team up with the Runaways, noodles with David. Quentin passes by them, trying to track down his host. He probably shouldn't linger on the next floor- he's not sure how many there are and it doesn't seem like he's catching up to him at this pace. 

That was the idea anyway, but when he makes it into the 3rd hall, he's stopped by the emotional wave that hits him and he has to put up a psychic barrier. It takes the form of a red riding hood cloak. Fitting, since he feels like he's anxiously awaiting a wolf around every corner. There's a wind that blows it back, which he wants to comment on it being dumb and dramatic, but he notices it's no longer carpet underfoot, but grass. The apartment doors are now trailer parks in a field. "Fuck," he swears softly. He doesn't bother to investigate, but with all the noise each makes as he passes by, he really doesn't have to.

"Stop it! Don't touch her!" "Don't tell me what to do with my own flesh and blood boy!"

"Is this your son? We found him drinking in a public park with about $150 worth of stolen merchandise on him." "Not tonight he's not, take him to his dad's, I can't deal with this right now."

"Why you good-for-nothing waste of space! Get out!! If I see you here again I'll-"

"Shut up. Shut up- Tommy where the _hell_ did you go?" Quentin moves faster now, a sickening feeling rising in him. His voice has dropped to a harsh whisper. Disturbing the mindscape of others had consequences and Quentin didn't want to be on the other side of whatever's going on here.

Despite the expanse of grasslands, there's still a stairwell at the other end of the hall that Quentin reaches. He can't get there soon enough. He skips steps to the top of the stairs but hits the door with a grunt when it doesn't budge as easily as the rest. This door is heavy and it takes some effort to slip through it. 

When it does give way he's welcomed by an ominous pitch black. "And people told me _I_ had issues," he mutters to himself, not even bothering to continue his search for Tommy. The sooner he reaches the top the sooner he can get out of here and then he'll just take Tommy out of his own head. There was really no reason to take any detours while he was still like this.

He takes a cautious step forward, this time splashing in a puddle of some sort. He tries to ignore it and hopes to god it's just water and takes another step. Green lights begin to fade into view, fluorescent like hospital lights and pulsing in the least inviting way possible but he still can't see shit.

Suddenly there's an explosion to his left and he jumps. There's no debris or rubble, just the noise and then a follow up voice that speaks over it.

"Run it again."

Another explosion. The tone only increases in irritation.

 _"_ Run it _again_."

Another explosion, this one much smaller and then the sound of pained vomiting.

"This is nowhere near the magnitude of what he's capable of. And until we find a replicate of that, we're not through here. _Make him run again._ "

Quentin's blood boils. Mutant experimentation. Humans are fucking vile. He leaves before he can get even more upset, not even bothering to try and shoulder the next door open. This one he just pries through with a wave of psychic force. Tommy would probably feel that later but at this point he's not in much of a state to care.

He calms slightly walking through the next hall. For once it's quiet. No voices, no ominous fluids, and his steps only echo a normal amount. It's bright, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Looking around Quentin notes the names etched into plates on doors sitting slightly ajar across from lockers and huge glass windows. He's in a high school. A public school. But there's no one here. "Why?" he starts to question, but figures he should enjoy the momentary reprieve from what he just saw. He can't help but wonder why this floor was better guarded than the last. Tommy had some weird priorities if his big concern was not attending school.

There's nothing stopping him from crossing the hall. No traps or looming threats. It's just empty. "Huh," he shrugged, coming up on the door, deadbolted and locked. Still not a challenge for the omega-level mutant, but he could tell this was probably the last floor he had to cross before reaching the final boss so to speak. When he crossed the threshold, the last floor made a bit more sense.

He could tell he was in the same place. Tommy's high school. At least the relative location was the same. There was no high school to be found here. Just a crater of rubble filling with water from split pipes. It looked like a meteor hit, except the impact was a perfect circle. And it was huge. Enough to take out the entire campus. Quentin floats instead of walking, continuing forward and assaulted by the sounds of crowds chattering and police sirens increasing. Overlaying the noise is the sound of a news report as if played from an invisible loudspeaker.

"-We'll try to keep you all informed as we receive updates on the situation. The culprit of the high school bombing still has not been found we're currently looking at 527 students dead and still more unreported and missing-"

"652 students dead."

"Over 700 students dead."

The number kept climbing. Apparently Tommy wasn't as secure about his powers as he'd like to believe. Quentin ventured down into the crater. If there was going to be an end to this nightmare, it was going to be down there. That's just how these things worked. Emotion-resistant cloak wrapped tight around him, he slid down the wall of the impact and saw a familiar shock of white hair in the center. 

"Tommy!" Quentin yells at him as he approaches, "Tommy we have to get out of here. I don't normally say this, but your mind sucks dude." Tommy doesn't answer, he's just staring off in the distance. With the wind sweeping his hair back he looks like some wistful anime character. Quentin kind of chuckles at the comparison. Tommy still seems to ignore him though so he glares and floats closer. "Tommy!" he yells again, this time voice sharper, "Listen trauma for brains. We're getting out of here."

There's still no response. Unless you count the weird vibrating he starts up. "Fucking-" He doesn't finish his complaint, as there's a sudden explosion, large enough to fill the crater they're standing in. Quentin sees it coming in time to wrap the cape around him in a protective full body shield. He's not sure what would happen if he were to die or whatever in Tommy's head, but he highly doubts it would be good for either of them. He starts to pull a psychic shotgun, but when he looks up Tommy's gone. He's hit faster than he can have time to process the pain and Tommy skids to a stop in front of him.

Or whatever this manifestation is. Because it's not Tommy.

The telepath gets a decent look at his opponent. Blank face, empty eyes, this is a shell hosting Tommy's real problem. Whatever this is is the reason he hasn't gotten his powers back. "See, I told you it wasn't my fucking fault," Quentin reels, holding his side- at least he thinks that's where he was hit. The pain just kind of blossoms through him. He assumes his psychic shielding gave him some form of protection. With a huff he fires the shotgun at point blank range- but of course the speedster's gone again. Quentin feels more pain and it puts him on one knee this time. 

"Fucking-!!" He doesn't get to finish that one either, the ground suddenly dropping beneath him. "Oh shit," he looks up and the crater's deepened significantly. "Fuck I can't be shooting blindly in your head who knows what the fuck I'll do to you." Another flash and another pain, this time to his stomach and he opens his eyes realizing he's knocked flat on his back. He's already starting to regret committing to his personal safety. "Keep playing with me Shepherd, I'll turn you into a damn vegetable." 

He's done messing around and figures he can get out of range. He starts to float well into the air. At least this will give him time to think. He gets another view of the ruins of the school. The first responders parked on the outskirts consoling the crying families and navigating the ruined infrastructure. 

"Fear. Of course you're afraid of your powers. Because this couldn't be fucking easy-" he pauses his contemplation when a sharp wind starts to drag him backwards. Turning, he sees a collection of tornados swirling around and the culprit at the bottom of the crater making them. "Oh _fuck_ this," frustrated and fed up Quentin Xs an aggravated swipe, sending a wave of pink psionics across the field. It dissipates the tornadoes and catches Tommy in the process, which Quentin restrains and lifts him to eye level. The blank eyes grow frustrated and he twists and squirms in a desperate attempt to break free. He doesn't have a mind, he's just a construct of Tommy's feelings so there's no Inception-type shit that Quentin can pull to get out of this. Not that he would- he's had enough. Which means he was going to have to do this the frustratingly old-fashioned way.

"Tommy," His tone is sharp and demanding. The crater beneath them has opened up into a seemingly endless black hole. "Tommy fucking listen to me. You are _not_ your powers. You're not what _they_ say you are." He gestures around to the collection of humans still surveying the scene. "Your worth isn't determined by how many people you hurt. Or help. They can't give you a purpose. They can't give you shit. You're a mutant- a power level and a number. You can't please them no matter what you do. Just… use your powers for you. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You make your own fate, trust me." His tone has drifted to calmer and maybe even a bit sad, but he shakes it off once he sees it seems to be working. He's stopped struggling and the scary murderous energy seems to leave him as he drifts off to sleep.

Quentin drifts to more solid ground once he confirms the threat has been dealt with. As he lands he realizes the scene has gone soundless. No more ominous announcements, no more sirens, even the collection of hunched families have gone silent film on them. "I think we're done here," Quentin mutters, but figures he might as well check before leaving.

He descends down to the main view of Tommy's mindscape, once more encountering the passing street of cars and buildings and crowds of people. It's much quieter, the crowd has thinned and the place has a lot less fire and destruction. Everything seems pretty back to normal. He starts to congratulate himself on another job well done, when he sees Tommy sitting on a bench with one of the cardboard cutout mind renditions of himself he'd seen earlier. He was _still_ naked, so Quentin snaps his fingers and puts him in a more casual outfit. T-shirt and shorts. With a pause he hums and waves to write on the shirt 'Psychiatric Help: The Doctor Is In' in a Charlie Brown playful rendition. Tommy jumps up to stand beside Quentin and it seems like he's got his speed back- at least in his head.

"Dude where _were_ you?" Tommy huffs, "I've been waiting here for like ever. God, you move _so_ slow."

"Me??" he's incredulous. After all the shit he's gone through just now, Tommy has the _audacity_ to accuse him of taking his sweet time. "I was running around your head fixing your mess where the hell did _you_ go?"

"I didn't go anywhere I just didn't see anything so I came back down here and waited for you to show up. What the hell took so long?"

He takes a deep breath and squints at Tommy. He's not lying- or at least he doesn't think he is. Not that Quentin would call him on it anyway. He really didn't want to have to explain that he just Labyrinth'd his way through Tommy's most deep seeded trauma and fought his fear to get his powers back. And he definitely wasn't going to do it again. Ever.

"Nothing. Your mind is just hell to navigate. Let's go." Quentin grabs his arm and suddenly they're both waking up. Tommy moreso than Quentin, who was never really out. The speedster sits up groggily, looking at the meal he'd left in the middle of before he passed out. "God, I feel like I have two headaches. Like one on top of the other. What the hell." 

"It'll pass," Quentin snaps and scoots off the table. "What crawled up your ass?" Tommy shakes off the disorientation quickly and stands up. "Hey it's back! I got my speed back! It feels… good. Thanks Q. Really." There's excitement in his voice that gives way to something softer and genuine that Quentin wasn't expecting. He turns to look over at the other but he's gone. He just feels something take his hand and spin him and maybe even plant a kiss to his cheek he can't tell. He's caught off guard, instinct putting him on the defensive and ready to fight. But Tommy's too busying running around his apartment and eating the rest of that hideous meal he concocted earlier. 

"You're disgusting," there's less malice in his voice than before, just the usual disdain, "I helped you out and everything. Now get out." "Yeah whatever," Tommy grins and nudges him, "I'll see you around. I know where to find you." He pauses in the doorway before he goes. "Hey, what'd you see in my head anyway?"

"You mean you don't remember anything?" For some reason this exasperates Quentin, but he decides to take the blessing in disguise. "Nothing really. Your thoughts are too fast for me." He shrugs off the easy lie and watches Tommy consider it. He laughs a bit actually. "Yeah I get that a lot. See you later Q."

No reason to bring up old memories.


End file.
